


To Build a Home

by HouseAu3



Series: The Hale Files [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Dresden Files Fusion, Character Study, Established Relationship, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4704986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseAu3/pseuds/HouseAu3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s mad, Allison thinks belatedly. He’s mad for her. Suddenly, what happened a moment ago doesn’t matter anymore; what matters is the fact that someone has such unconditional trust in her, and she wants to deserve that trust.</p>
<p>A character study of the Allison Argent in The Hale Files verse</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Build a Home

When she wakes up, the sky outside her window is only just beginning to brighten up. She quickly washes up, puts on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, goes downstairs, and opens the door. The cool air rushing in makes goosebumps rise up on her upper arms. Allison grabs a jacket and her cellphone, and runs out.

There’s barely anyone on the street in the early morning, except for a couple old people wandering around, and some fellow joggers. Allison once bumped into Derek Hale at time like this. She can’t forget the way the man stops dead on his tracks, back hunched, wary eyes following her as she runs past him.

She can’t help but wonder what he has seen in her. Was it only the physical similarity, or did his Sight show him a resemblance she bore with Kate in essence? _(“Why, why would she do that? Why didn’t I see it coming?” “Allison, it’s not your fault. Stiles knows this, too. He won’t blame you.” “What if I am just like her? What if one day I - ” “Allison, you are not her.”)_ Scott only sees the good in her, but he doesn’t know Allison hasn’t always been the way she is; she knows how deep her hatred can go. She knows how easily her emotions translate into violence.

The watch on her wrist starts glowing softly. Allison shakes her head, focusing on her own breaths. She has asked her dad where the watch came from, noticing the way her dad’s face grew tight when he gave it to her. Her dad let out a deep sigh, and said that it was invented by the family to whom he was most indebted; She’s reminded how Derek lost control of his magic after Peter’s death. At that time the bracelet on him was flickering as blood seeped out his wrist. It doesn’t take much time for her to put the two together. When she asked him, he pursed his lips, and ended up saying only a word.

Kate.

That was all the explanation she needed.

“Focus. It’s not avoiding thinking altogether, but to avoid dwelling on the most surface emotions,” behind her suddenly comes her dad’s voice. Allison looks back and sees her dad running after her, words unobstructed by the movement of his body. “Your heart can give you answers, but it can also twist the truth. The most important thing is to find the balance.”

Her dad’s always too cryptic when he’s talking about magic. She has complained to him about that, saying if she has a psychological problem, she would talk to a therapy, but her dad only restated that mind was the source of everything; a weak mind can easily lead to a dark path.

When and why did Kate wind up on the wrong way?

Allison takes a deep breath, and slowly breathes out. For Kate, she has been heartbroken, and she has been outraged. She practiced archery all day. She almost tore down the room Kate had been staying. She called Scott, pouring her heart out to him. She used the money Kate left in her room to buy Lydia dinner in an expensive restaurant; enough, she tells herself. She has put enough of her heart in it. There’s so much things more worthy of her care.

The glow of the crystal of her watch slowly dies down. She didn’t noticed that her dad has come up to her side.

“I have things to tell you tonight,” her dad says, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “To discuss with you.”

“You can’t tell me now?”

“It’s not definite yet.”

Allison tilts her face to look at him. “I have plans with Lydia.”

Her dad nods. “It’s fine. I’ll wait.”

Her dad doesn’t say anything else the rest of the way, but simply runs with her in silence. It isn’t until they returned home after a course around the neighborhood that she realizes they have sped up considerably without her noticing. She turns to her dad, an eyebrow arched. He smiles, and squeezes her shoulder approvingly.

After her mom’s death, there has been a long period of time during which this had been all their interactions were. Her dad ran with her, taught her archery, stopped her from torturing her body, and taught her the correct way to train. They didn’t speack much, but mostly communicated through eye contact and body language. Reliving her mom’s routines had been a way for them to mourn their loss together. Allison spent years dragging herself out. Sometimes she wonders if her dad is still in; she only knows that he often wakes up in the small hours, making rounds around their house, making sure they are safe.

“See you later?”

“See you later.”

*

Scott greets her with a bright smile, bashfully reaching his hand to her. Allison locks their fingers togther, placing a chaste kiss on his lips with a smile. She doesn’t know how Scott can look at her like she’s his entire world, putting his heart in her hands without a hint of hesitation, but she knows there are feelings just as strong hidden in her chest, and she would take them out, little by little, giving it to him though every smiles and kisses of hers.

“Guys, you’re gonna short-circuits the whole building again.” Stiles sticks his head out from behind Scott and put an arm around Scott’s shoulder, his fingertips touching the skin under Scott’s collar. She doesn’t miss the fleeting grimace on Stiles’ face when he sees the watch on her wrist. They were in her room the first time he saw her watch glow. He and Scott had brought her the DVD of the movie she said she wanted to watch. Stiles almost ran downstairs to argue with her dad for that. He didn’t calm down until Alliosn promised him that, no, the watch didn’t do anything except glowing, again and again, and let him hold her hand to check for sure.

When she told him it seemed to be invented by the Hales, and the bracelet on Derek was an alteration done by Kate, the look on his face almost scared her; and when he told her, after a moment of silence, that the drug Kate used on him was created by the Hales for their mundane members in case of emergency, she wasn’t entirely sure if he told her because he simply couldn’t keep it in, or if it was out of revenge. _(“Sorry, sorry, you don’t need to know this.” “Stiles - ” “Forget what I said, really. What your aunt had done has nothing to do with you.”)_

“Hey, I’m wondering - ” Allison hesitates for a moment, unsure of if she should ask this, if she has the right to ask this. “How’s Derek Hale? I heard Danny said that he bumped into him when Derek was doing community service.”

Stiles blinks at her in surprise, like he hasn’t expected her to ask after Derek, but he quickly recovers, a bright smile rising on his face. “You know, all the old people in Beacon Hill absolutely adore him. Even the grumpiest, most difficult ones have become his fans. That probably has something to do with the fact that he goes to their home to prepare food for them when he has the time. But seriously, he acts so differently when he’s with old people and little kids.”

Allison chuckles as Scott does. She can’t picture Derek cooking in a kitchen, and she doesn’t know how he looks in front of other people. The few times their paths have crossed, his face has always been filled with mistrust and wariness of her. Maybe one day she would be able to hold a normal conversation with him, but she isn’t sure what she should do to reach that point, or maybe she shouldn’t do anything.

“You sound close to him,” Allison says, perhaps with a little enviness. When she is being watched by someone with a complete lack of trust, it’s hard not to wonder if there really is something wrong with herself.

“Um, I won’t use the word ‘close’ to describe his relationship with anyone now, but we’re friends, probably, at least I think so; he’ll probably deny it if he hears me.” Stiles scratches his head and smiles at her. “Don’t worry. He just need some time.”

Allison understands loss, but she can’t imagine losing almost all his family overnight, and losing the only family he has. She doesn’t understand how Derek can keep going, living, caring. If she were Derek - Allison shudders. She knows she would be capable of anything.

What would she had done if Peter hadn’t killed Kate? How would she had reacted if Derek had killed Kate?

“I wish he’s happy,” Allison says, voice so soft even she herself barely hears it.

Stiles lowers his head, pulls at the collars of the leather coat he has been wearing since two months ago, and holds onto the necklace he rarely takes off, if at all.

“I do too, Allison, I too.”

The rest of the day has been a blur to her. The funny thing is, she finds that her notes are actually more detailed than usual when she checks her notebooks afterwards. Maybe she shouldn’t pay too much attention in classes. Her subconscious or muscle memory obviously is much better at school than she is. When the bell goes off after the last class, she, as usual, heads to the lacrosse field. The different thing is Stiles running up to her with a panicked look on his face and grabbing her hand tightly.

“Go stay with Scott. I’m going to help find his inhaler. Call the ambulance if he gets worse.” He turns around and bolts toward the classroom building once he finshes. Allison rushes to the field, and find Scott sitting on the ground against a bench, his face pale. She kneels down beside him, finds his hand and holds on tight.

“I’m - not that serious.” Scott gives her hand a squeeze and smiles weakly. “Stiles’ too nervous.”

Alliosn bites into her lip, the other hand gripping her cellphone. How quick does the breathing has to be for her to call an ambulance? How purple the lips have to be to count as serious? She can make a call now. It wouldn’t do much bad, would it?

“Allison, I’ll tell you if - if I need you to call.” Scott covers her glowing watch, thumb rubbing the back of her hand soothingly. “I promise. I won’t push myself.”

Allison nods, giving him the best smile she can manage. “I should be the one to help you calm down.”

Scott lets out a laugh, weak and hoarse. Allison feels her chest tightened. She tightens her grip on Scott’s hand, and leans in to let their foreheads touch, feeling Scott’s breaths on her face, a little quick, a little shallow, but more steady than she has feared it would be.

An old-fashioned ringtone goes off from the bench left of Scott. Scott tries to push himself up. Allison promptly stops him.

“It’s Stiles’ phone,” Scott says.

“I’ll get it.” Allison quickly fishes out Stiles’ phone from the pocket of his coat. The caller ID is “Not so sour face”. She frowns, goes back to Scott’s side, and picks up. “Who’s this? Stiles’ not here now.”

There’s a couple seconds of silence from the other end of the line. “How’s he? What happened?”

It’s Derek. Allison swallows. She’s about to respond when Derek suddenly says, “You’re nervous. What have you done?“

At that moment, she feels like even the blood flowing inside her body is toxic. She has the sudden and irrational urge to cut her self up, to check if her blood is still red. _But Derek never looks at her dad like he’s a murderer_ , a voice in her mind says to her. Maybe there’s something inherently wrong with her. Maybe she was born to hurt people. Maybe she isn’t that different from Kate.

“I didn’t do anything,” Allison says, her throat dry. She can feel Scott’s eyes on her. She turns around to give him a smile, shaking her head. “Scott has an asthma attck. Stiles’ looking for his inhaler.”

Derke is silent again. Allison half expects him to accuse her of lying, to continue questioning her, but after a few seconds, Derek simply says, “He found it,” and then hangs up. Allison stares at Stiles phone for a while before putting it down on the bench behind Scott. She feels a little cold.

“What - what has he said?” Scott asks, glaring at Stiles phone. He’s mad, Allison thinks belatedly. He’s mad _for_ her. Suddenly, what happened a moment ago doesn’t matter anymore; what matters is the fact that someone has such unconditional trust in her, and she wants to deserve that trust. Scott doesn’t know how she was the few years after her mom’s death, but at that moment she has an almost blind faith that Scott will accept her, will embrace her past, and will stay with her as she grows to be a better person.

“Scott, I’m not a good person.”

Scott shakes his head. “I don’t care what Derek’s said - ”

“It’s not like that,” Allison says. “I’ve hurt people, physically and mentally. But I don’t like that Allison. I don’t want to be her again.”

“You won’t,” Scott says simply, as if it’s a universal truth, as if it’s something as natural as the fact that the Earth is round.

“I love you,” she says on impulse. The smile blossoming on Scott’s face warms her to the core. She plants a kiss on his cheek, the tips of his nose, and between his eyebrows. Scott catches her hand, and leans in to catch her lips.

“Scott, your -  oh my god I can’t believe you two. I don’t even know what to say anymore. Do you know how often I’m speechless? Never.”

Allison pulls away, nervous to find that Scott’s more out of breaths than he was before, but unable to stop the smile on her face. Scott pants, at the same time mouthing “I love you too” at her, his eyes crinkling.

“Jesus, there’s better way to die for love. Do you know how dumb it sounds to suffocate because of making out? It’s dumber than suffocating when jerking off with a plastic bag on your face because you want to try erotic asphyxiation. It’s that dumb.”

Stiles shoves the inhaler into Scott’s mouth as he rants. Scott obediently breathes in following his instruction, his eyes darting to her from time to time. Allison continues smiling at him, holding his left hand with both hands, thumbs rubbing his knuckles.

It isn’t until Stiles suddenly quiets down that Allison notices the arrival of the other team members, and that she hadn’t realized how strange their absence was. Lydia walks up to her, brushes her hair back, and wipes away the smeared lipstick on the corner of her mouth. Allison looks up at her, breaking into a grin. Lydia curls her lips and gently pats her cheek.

“We’re still on?” Lydia asks.

Allison looks at Scott. Stiles steps in, grips on Scott’s shoulder, and says, “I’ll take him back. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’ll call you tonight,” Scott says with a lopsided smile.

“Okay.” Allison gives Scott a quick kiss on the lips. “Later.”

*

When they are in Lydia car, she takes out a bag from the backseat and lays it on Allison’s laps. Allison blinks at the bag full of cellphones, and then turns to Lydia.

“Your cellphone must have died again after what happened,” Lydia says as she starts the engine. Allison takes her phones out from her pocket, and it’s indeed dead. “We need to find a more durable phone for you. I refuse to accept that Nokia 3310 is our only choice. Try to find which one can survive more magical abuse.”

“Um, okay.” Allison puts her hands on the sea of cellphones. Her dad hasn’t taught her much yet except for the physical trainings, but he does ask her to practice focusing her mind every day, pulling the magic seeping out of her back into her body. She just needs to do the opposite. “Maybe I should be outside the car.”

Lydia nods and pulls over. Allison squats down at the side of the road. She surrounds herself with a rope and makes a circle just in case, and then she holds the bag in her arms, thinking about Scott, about Lydia and Stiles, focussing on the most surface emotions in her mind. Her watch starts glowing, the light growing stronger and stronger, until Allison can’t look directly at it. Allison takes a deep breath, and slowly exhales, feeling her breath, watching as the blinding light slowly dies down.

“Okay?” Lydia asks. Allison gets to her feet, pockets the rope, and brings the bag back into the car.

Then several phones suddenly goes off at the same time. Allison almost throws the whole bag of phones out of the door. Lydia reaches her hand over to quickly pick out the ringing ones out of the bag.

“Only seven? I’m so disappointed in modern technology.” Lydia shakes her head and throws six of the phones back into the bag. “At least one of them is a smartphone. It’s decided then. We’ll go buy two new ones.”

“What was that?” Allison takes the only smartphone from her. Kyocera. She hasn’t even heard of the brand. “And where did you find all these phones?”

“The answer to both of the questions is Danny.” Lydia shrugs. “I didn’t ask where he got them. If something happens I’ll claim plausible deniability.”

Allison pats her arm. “Nah, you won’t let him rot if something happens.”

Lydia smiles and doesn’t deny it.

In the end they buy ten of the same phone, ignoring the strange look from the clerk. Lydia gives her eight, and before she asks, answers, “You have people you want to give. Consider them a gift in return for the dinner.” Allison nods, accepting. Then she puts an arm around hers, dragging her to a coffee shop nearby, and buys her a cup of latte and a coffee sundae.

“Did the stuff my dad gave you work?” Allison asked.

“Seems to be working for now.” Lydia scoops up a spoonful of her sundae and casually sticks the spoon into Allison’s mouth. “At least nothing’s come bothering me in the midnight ever since.” She pauses. “But.”

Allison licks away the ice cream on her lips. “What?”

Lydia shakes her head. “Nothing. I just dream about this same guy from time to time. It’s always something mundane. Having dinner with him, watching him play sports, that kind of things.”

Allison cocks her head. “Someone else’s memories?”

Lydia shrugs. “Who knows.”

Lydia isn’t very interested in the abilities she’s been showing. Allison doesn’t say much to her about that, since it’s a matter of personal choice. She only wants Lydia to be safe, so she asks her dad to put on wards at Lydia’s home, and asks only how Lydia can protect herself, and what Allison can do for her. “I wish he were as calm as you are about this.” Lydia once told her, showing her phone to her. On the screen were a series of text messages sent by Stiles, asking her how clear she could see the ghost, if she had tried to interact with them, adding to that a “Oh no you shouldn’t just interact with them,” but can’t resist to ask her if she had thought about being a private investigator or police consultant in the future; he could talk to his dad about her.

“Is Stiles still texting you?” Allison asks, supporting her head with a hand.

Lydia huffs. “About over twenty every day.”

“I can tell him if you don’t like it. He just texts the way he talks.” Allison once received five text messages from Stiles in ten seconds, everyone a supplement or a correction to the one before. He doesn’t have much of a filter even when he types. “You haven’t seen Scott’s phone. They could send each other close to a hundred messages every day, but they text less recently. He changes his phone, and text messages cost money now.”

“I don’t dislike receiving them, but I don’t want to reply at all.”

Allison purses her lips and asks, “Why do you dislike him?”

“I don’t dislike him, I just hope he realizes sooner that he doesn’t really love me.” Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Lydia continues to explain, “When I found Scott’s inhaler and gave it to him today, he didn’t even look at me once. I don’t think he even recognized me. He just grabbed it and ran away. Who he like isn’t me, Allison, simply an idea existing only in his head.”

Alliosn opens her mouth, and then closes it. She can’t say anything on Stiles’ behalf; afterall she doesn’t really know what place Lydia holds in Stiles’ heart. Besides, what’s going to happen even if she defends him? She still doesn’t like Jackson much, but she knows at least he’s not simply an asshole. More importantly, Lydia cares about him.

After a couple minutes of silence, Allison says, “He can be a really good friend.”

Lydia quirks her lips. “Then I await the day he starts acting like a friend.”

*

When she gets home, her dad’s sitting in the living room waiting for her. The expression on his face makes her heart sink. She sits down next to him.

“So, what happened?”

“I need to go to Chicago for work. I’m not sure how long I’ll have to stay,” her dad says, looking at her but not seeing her. “I know you like it here, Allison, but - ”

“No, never, I’m not leaving.” Allison meets his eyes. She doesn’t remember the Soulgaze she’s shared with her dad. Her dad told her it happened on accident when she was little. Her mom almost had a fight with him for that. But Allison didn’t show any problem afterwards. On the contrary, she had become even more attached to her dad. It made even her mom a little jealous. “I never said anything before, but I wasn’t in a good place. Now it’s different. I’m not leaving.”

“Allison, I can’t possibly leave you here alone - ”

“The problem is I’m not alone anymore, dad. I have friends. I have a boyfriend. I have people I care deeply about.” Allison takes her dad’s hand and softens her tone. “I love you, dad, but I have a life here.”

Her dad looks at her, letting out a sigh after a good while. “God, I know I can’t win this argument with you.” He takes out a black crystal from his pocket and puts it on Allison’s palm.

“This is - ” Allison holds her hand together, afraid that she would drop it if she isn’t paying enough attention. “It’s mom’s - ”

Her dad gives her a small smile and pulls his necklace out, showing her the pendant hidden under his shirt. It’s the same black crystal. “Necklace or bracelet?”

“Necklace.” So that losing a hand would be fine, as long as her head’s still attached to her body. The fleeting thought comes to Allison’s mind. She laughs at herself. Thanks god her dad wouldn’t know what she’s thinking. He would be appalled.

Her dad takes out a silver chain, slipping it through the hole already in the crystal, and puts it on Allison. “Take care of yourself, Allison.”

Allison gives his shoulder a squeeze. “I will, dad. Don’t worry.”

That night when she’s about to go to bed after her phone call with Scott, she sees something falling from the roof at the corner of her eyes. She runs to the window, taking the bow and arrow at the foot of her bed out of habit, aims at the ground, and finds her dad standing in their backyard, looking up at her. He nods to her, shoulders his bag under her gaze, opens the Way behind their house, and walks in with a wave of his hand.

Allison waits until he leaves to climb through her window onto the roof. There are symbols and words she doesn’t understand etched onto the tiles, and right on top of the window of her room are _“Don’t climb up, Allison”_ and _“Go back home and sleep, Scott”_ written in chalk.

Allison shakes her head, listening to her own chuckle, and feels lighter than she's ever been before.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The Allison-centric short story I said I would write at the end of Burnt Heart, but hadn't until a couple days ago. I actually wrote this in Chinese before translating it into English. I'm still unsure if it's better or worse for that.


End file.
